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The two of them had no choice but to reluctantly step inside, even though every red flag imaginable was present, long before the door locked behind them.
“Monokuma, what is this?” Tsurugi calls into the high ceiling curving above them. The ursine animatronic, perhaps unexpectedly, does not appear with a pop into their midst. Instead, the two are left to stand there in silence, surrounded by metallic beams that make the oddly circular room seem like a massive bird cage.
And now, the trapped birds wait. As though maybe, if they can just hold out long enough, an escape will appear. The dread of something horrific happening at any moment is heavy. Or at least, it is for Yuki, who watches his cellmate circle the exterior in investigative strides.
Neither of them approach the center, where a small pedestal stands. The covered platter atop it, glinting mysteriously in the dim light between them, is far too suspicious for that. Instead, they wait through around a half an hour of silence only broken by the sound of Tsurugi's increasingly charged pacing.
But nothing happens; no Monokuma, no further instructions, and no rescue. And that probably means there is no choice but to give in. Yuki stands idly as Kinjo passes by the door again. He proceeds to rattle the handle, then, not for the first time, bang on the metal surface with a tight fist.
"Monokuma!" He spits out the name like a poison. Of course, nothing but silence answers him. Then, he slams a shoulder into the door, and, of course, it doesn't budge. When he pulls back, Tsurugi's shoulders are stiff, and his movements are more choppy than normal. It might not be easy to read, but to Yuki, the fear radiating off of him is clearly visible.
I wonder if Kinjo can see how scared I am, too... The premise is obvious and grim, after all. Two students, forced into a room, then locked in? After surviving the killing school life for this long, they know what the intended conclusion to the story must be. An ending where one or both of them never leave this place.
Yuki’s hand shakes a little, and he eyes the shining metal dome in the center of the room. It could be anything. Yet the need to know is almost inescapable. It’s probably something meant for us to kill each other with. Unless it’s some kind of trap.. Yuki sighs. What else can be done at this point besides going to look? Maybe if I open it up while Kinjo’s further away, then if something bad happens, it’ll only happen to me.
Tsurugi’s focus is still on the door, so if he wants to do this without being stopped, now is the time. Yuki quickly but softly tip toes across towards the pedestal. His reflection, blurry and unidentifiable, looks up at him from the polished metal.
Just before he lifts the cover, he glances over his shoulder. If death awaits, he would rather be looking at Tsurugi than whatever this thing is. A soft metallic clink gives it away, and Tsurugi's attention snaps toward the pedestal the moment he lifts the cover. Yuki lowers it to his side, hoping he hasn't just preemptively doomed them both.
“Maeda, what are you-we have no idea what's in there!” Tsurugi's voice is scratchy, and it sounds more alarmed than angry as he marches over.
“I know…” Yuki says. But as both of them take in the items sitting on the uncovered platter, it becomes obvious that immediate death isn't on the table.
A black, claw-like object sits in the center of the metal dish, along with a fancy card. Yuki swallows as Tsurugi picks up the tiny note. The front of it is white and unremarkable. If it weren't for the familiar grinning logo, Yuki could have taken it for a typical business card. The other side is black, with crawling gold patterns around the edges. In the center, a short message is written in pale cursive letters. Kinjo reads it first, without saying a word. Yuki watches his eyes close tightly for a moment before he hands it over.
If you wish to escape death,
Take this knife, there's no egress;
Stab it into someone's flesh…
Or both shall take a final breath.
The brutish poem reveals the script to them without mercy. For a long, choked moment, they both stare down at the sheathed knife. Then, nearly simultaneously, they both back away. Yuki meets Tsurugi’s gaze, and sees the exact same horror in his own heart reflected in those scarlet eyes.
“Kinjo…” Yuki wants an answer. He watches expectantly. Hoping for Tsurugi to tell him what they should do; to come up with some way to get them out of this nightmare. Even though he already knows it's not possible. He can see that by the look on Tsurugi's pale face; and how, slowly and glassy-eyed, he retreats to the other side of the room and sinks to the floor.
Tsurugi shakes his head. When he glances up, his expression is stubborn, and his eyes are relievingly piercing again as they catch the dim light. Despite the situation, a tiny part of Yuki is almost happy. Because he won't do it either, but something in him had been afraid Tsurugi would. Now, even if it's probably solely thanks to his unyielding ideals, Yuki knows Tsurugi must feel the same way as him.
However, despite that, a hollowness is growing all too quickly in Tsurugi's captivating gaze.
“I refuse to do that.” Yuki says fiercely. “Maybe if-” Tsurugi looks up at the ceiling with a numb expression. A metallic creaking fills the air as a set of metal plates shift mechanically above them. The room's vents are slowly encroached upon and sealed up, one by one.
“He’s cutting off the air supply...” Tsurugi says quietly. The metal clanks with ominous finality as the last plate slides into place.
“That… that's…” Yuki shudders. In response, the expression on Tsurugi's face grows more pained. For a second, he looks almost panicked, before his eyes close, clearly searching desperately for some kind of solution. Yuki hangs on to the silence, waiting.
Suddenly, Tsurugi's eyes open, and he stands again, something determined and sharp sparking in his gaze. The sight reignites a desperate hope in Yuki's heart again; for an idea, a plan, or even just reassurance. Instead, Tsurugi walks over to the pedestal, and picks up the knife. Yuki's chest grows cold as a soft, metallic ring echoes coldly through the room. The sound of the sheath being removed.
“K-Kinjo…?” Yuki asks hesitantly, standing his ground as Tsurugi approaches him, weapon in hand. The dagger’s outline is a strange, chaotic shape, thanks to a carved slash cutting into it near the end. The white handle and the blade itself is decorated with almost arcane symbols of bears, and fish, and tiny figures fighting for survival near the hilt. It looks almost ceremonial, as though it was created for some kind of ancient sacrificial rite long ago.
Was I wrong? Yuki wonders in horror. Tsurugi halts in front of him, and then, he chooses to do something that is almost more distressing than the sudden, hazy, images of Tsurugi attacking him without a second thought in his mind’s eye. His classmate tilts the blade back and holds it up. The sharp edge angles toward his body, pressed carefully between his fingers; while the hilt is left in the air, and pointed at Yuki.
“Take it.” Tsurugi says. The apparent command is not nearly as authoritative as usual. Yuki stares at him, dumbfounded.
Take…it……?
“There’s no other choice.” Tsurugi says bluntly.
He can't mean… Yuki slowly shakes his head.
"Take it.” Tsurugi's voice turns more forceful. This, combined with the expression on his face, a mask of resolve and emptiness, is unbearable. And it forces something in Yuki to snap fiercely back into place. In a sudden, almost instinctual motion, Yuki lifts the weapon and tosses it away.
“No,” he says firmly. “Are you out of your mind?” Tsurugi looks at him with a bewilderingly baleful expression as the dagger lands on the floor with a loud clatter. The metal shines in the light as it spins.
"Maeda, if you don't do this, you’ll die.” Tsurugi's voice is still frighteningly cool. Yuki suddenly finds he can no longer take this madness. His hands ball into tight fists.
“I said no! ” He shouts. “You're asking me to… t-to…” Tsurugi watches him blankly, all hollow and quiet, shoulders slightly slumped. Yuki’s heart starts to fade at the nothingness. “T-that would be murder, Kinjo! Are you really okay with that? With turning me into a dirty criminal?!” Yuki searches desperately for the reaction he seeks. But it doesn't come.
“If we do nothing, we'll both die.” Tsurugi says quietly. “But if you do this, there's a chance you might survive… So even if it means creating a killer, as long as it saves a life… I can put up with the sacrifice.” Tsurugi's tone is far too close to calm.
“Put up with…?” Under any other circumstances, Yuki would have been overjoyed to see Tsurugi choose somewhere between the black and white areas of his mind. But right now, he wishes instead that he had stayed rigid and suggested that they should simply both die together. That would have been easier to take than this.
“What about me?” Yuki shouts. “Do you really think I can just ‘put up’ with that?” Tsurugi’s eyes widen in shock as he continues. “Your life isn't an ‘acceptable sacrifice’ to me!” He chokes out the last words, shaking lightly out of anger and dismay.
Tsurugi doesn't argue with him. He doesn't shout, or fight, or otherwise try to intimidate Yuki into complying. He just waits. Which is almost even worse. As though the outcome has already been decided. Maybe he thinks, once the air starts to run out, that I'll panic and do it, no matter what I say…
Yuki shivers. What if he's right? A nightmare filters in. One where the air returns to his lungs, and he slowly drifts back. Only to find Tsurugi broken and cold beneath him. The ghostly image of blood coating his hands and staining his white sleeves pink is visible even when Yuki closes his eyes.
No. I can't let that happen. There has to be something. Yuki picks up the forgotten card once more. Maybe, if he reads it again more carefully, a possibility might reveal itself.
The first two lines offer nothing. No hints of mercy, escape, or chances to stand on. But Yuki pauses over the last two. The meaning is obvious, isn't it? Stab one, or both die. Yuki turns the words over and over in his mind.
Stab it into someone's flesh…
But… A small flicker of realization hits him all at once. He latches on to the tiny fragment of hope he creates through that warning.
It doesn't say 'kill.' Or that only one person can leave. Even if it seems like simple semantics, the wording causes an idea to form in his mind. It’s probably a trap laid out by Monokuma. But at least it's a chance.
“Kinjo…” Yuki begins. Tsurugi's eyes brighten ever so slightly again at the suddenly more hopeful tone. “Read this again, will you?” He hands the note back. “Doesn't it seem like, maybe, we don't have to kill to get out?” A wary expression covers Tsurugi's face, and he reads the note a few more times before answering.
“Stabbing and killing are not as easy to separate as you might think, Maeda,” he replies at last. “But I see it too.” Tsurugi's mouth turns into a thin, worried line. “You might be able to get help in time… you could try, but…” Tsurugi trails off, and Yuki can't help but remember the second trial. The brief ghost of similarity is haunting.
“But…!" Yuki stares into his friend desperately. "It's possible to stab someone without killing them…”
“Any wound like that is potentially lethal,” Tsurugi says, then continues thoughtfully. “But maybe…” Yuki’s heart begins to lift. If anyone knows enough about this to pull it off, it's Kinjo.
And that, of course, leads him to another conclusion.
“You have to do it.” Yuki whispers.
“……What?” Tsurugi asks. His voice is low and empty.
“Out of the two of us, you're the only one who has a chance of doing this. W-without …killing, I mean.” Yuki says. “I’ve never…” he trails off, swallowing. “I don't know anything about this, but you do.” A horrified look slowly begins to spread over Tsurugi's face. “Even if I… somehow managed to...." Yuki struggles to keep his voice even as he looks away. “I don't know what to do after…”
“Then I'll tell you,” Tsurugi says. Shreds of panic are appearing in his voice now, which seem to grow as he watches Yuki slowly walk over to where the dagger waits on the floor.
“That's not good enough.” Yuki says fiercely after he picks it up. “What if I make a mistake? What if you can't help me, or something unexpected happens?” Tsurugi's eyes pinched closed. Yuki knows there's nothing he can say to refute the argument. Out of the two of them, there's only one logical option.
“I'm stronger, and bigger than you!” Tsurugi tries, taking a step backwards. “I’ve been injured many times before. I-I have a higher chance of survival.”
Maybe. But Yuki can survive, too. Somehow, he knows he can.
“I won't die,” Yuki says simply. The distance between them shrinks. "You have to do this, Kinjo. I know you know this is the only real choice."
“B-but…” Tsurugi's voice is shaking now. He tries to put more space between them again, even though there's nowhere else to go. Is it just me, or is the air already getting stuffier? Urgency presses on Yuki's mind.
“I know you can do it,” Yuki tries to keep his voice as calm and reassuring as possible. “If it's you, I’ll be okay.” He approaches slowly. Tsurugi trembles as Yuki gently presses the knife hilt against his chest. “We can both get out of this,” Yuki tries to smile. “I promise.” Tsurugi closes his eyes, and for a long moment, he seems lost, between. But then, a hand slowly moves upwards. Tsurugi takes the dagger in the same manner one might approach handling a venomous snake. Both pairs of eyes are fixed on his hands.
“Okay?” Yuki asks. He brushes his hand against Kinjo’s trembling fingers.
“Okay…” Tsurugi relents. The air is definitely starting to thin now. There can't be much time left. Eyes flit upwards towards the vents. He must know that. Yuki waits expectantly for Tsurugi's gaze, still wild with anxiety, to meet his. Even once he seems to give in, it takes long, painful seconds before he manages to speak again.
“Take off your sweater," Their gazes meet at last. Tsurugi undoes his tie, and pulls off his own uniform top, setting it aside. A pale sleeveless shirt, probably the kind a bullet proof vest might rest over, is left behind. “I need them… to… to stop the bleeding.”
“R-right,” Yuki says. Perhaps the reality of what’s about to happen is finally starting to catch up with him. His fingers are shaky on the edges of the fabric as he slides the sweater off, and it takes him much longer than usual to undo his tie. Tsurugi shreds the shirt up in seconds, leaving dozens of pieces piled nearly on the floor in various sizes and shapes. He watches as Tsurugi tears into his vest, too. Yuki misses the soft weight of it over his body almost instantly.
“We probably won't need the ties, but it's better to be… be prepared,” Tsurugi explains. “We shouldn't need more than this, so you can keep your shirt…” His tone is starting to recover a little of its authority again. Which is a relief, because Yuki is slowly losing his hold on all the calm, reassuring confidence he had to offer.
“That makes sense,” he manages. Tsurugi looks between the knife, and the person in front of him. Yuki can practically see the calculations going through his head as he scans Yuki’s body. Eventually, he meets his eyes again. Tsurugi's scarlet eyes are clear and piercing. Even though a little bit of panic coils around in the recesses, the commanding look he gives Yuki is reassuring. So is the way their eyes remain locked; even when Tsurugi briefly looks away, his gaze always quickly returns.
“Lie down,” Tsurugi says. His voice is assertive enough to make it sound like an order, if Yuki couldn't also see the fear behind it. His back lowers against the cold floor.
“I’ll… It'll be an arm, okay?” Tsurugi's voice slows just a little in the middle. “It should…” he starts again. “It's not as risky.” Yuki nods, unable to tear his gaze away from Tsurugi's face. “Which arm?” Tsurugi asks the question calmly. A bizarre, surreal, fuzzy feeling accompanies the remark in Yuki's head.
“My… my right,” Yuki manages to say. He's left handed, so it seems like the logical option. Just like getting a shot. His mind supplies in an almost manic tone. Even his sleeve is rolled up in much the same way. Tsurugi nods solemnly, lowering his hand to press two fingers gently against a patch of skin on Yuki’s forearm.
“Right here,” Tsurugi murmurs. “There are no major arteries.”
“O-Okay,” Yuki breathes. He tries to keep his body still, but shivers of anxiety tremble through him all the same.
“I’m going to hold you down, alright?” Tsurugi’s eyebrows furrow, and Yuki spots a flicker of despair and guilt slip through, just for a second. “I can't let you move while I…” Tsurugi takes a shaky breath. "You can't move when it happens. Otherwise, I…I could miss.” His expression waits, almost desperately, for permission, or forgiveness.
“I understand.” I'm not going to struggle… but when it… will I be able to stop myself from…? One more fear piles above the rest. What if I injure myself even worse, or hurt him? A shadow falls over him; Tsurugi hovering above, the knife held awkwardly in one hand. No, that won't happen. Not when he's so much stronger than me. This will work. However, the presence hanging above him stays frozen, clearly not truly in agreement.
“Tsurugi…” Yuki whispers. “It’ll be alright.” He tries to look reassuring. The attempt is probably only half-successful, but the words still seem to break through and get Tsurugi to move again. Which is good, because their air is growing thinner and thinner by the second. He can taste it, and his head is already beginning to ache. If we pass out now, we’ll both die. Tsurugi's eyes close for a moment, and his movements are incredibly slow and cautious as he kneels down.
Yuki’s heart speeds up as his classmate’s larger frame weighs down his chest and shoulders. Pressure forces his right arm down, and Tsurugi's shoulder and elbow keep his chest, neck, and other arm from moving much. Even if I wanted to, I probably couldn't escape now. The thought doesn't feel nearly as alarming as it likely should. And yet, a tremor still creeps up through his right arm. Tsurugi’s eyes, intense and wider than normal, land on this. There's a brief, gentle squeeze around his wrist, followed by a readjustment which forces the limb into stability. Though Yuki can still feel himself shivering a bit, his arm is pinned completely still.
“Are you ready?” Warm air grazes his ear as Tsurugi breathes the words. He's so close. Yuki is no such thing, but he nods.
“D-do it,” Yuki whispers. Tsurugi looks down at him, then gently shifts to the side, blocking Yuki's right arm from view. Charged fear surges through them both. Yuki can feel it passing between them like static electricity, even with the many guarded layers between Tsurugi and himself.
“I'm sorry,” The words are surprisingly soft and gentle. “I’ll be quick.” Yuki barely manages to nod before Tsurugi stiffens over him, and fire explodes into his arm. He screams, nearly biting his tongue. Lightning bursts into his spine, suddenly causing his body to spasm violently, struggling against the person holding him down, fighting desperately to pull away. Get away. Pain. PAIN...!
Tsurugi’s body presses harder into his own, preventing him from moving away, even as spasms of panic and fury vibrate through his chest and arms. Legs kick out wildly, and his body attempts to twist to one side, then the other. Boiling agony blossoms from the wound, forcing a panicked, almost primal fear over him for what feels like minutes. Everything else seems to disappear under an all encompassing desire to escape.
Of course, his struggles do very little. Tsurugi’s entire body keeps his arm, and the rest of him by extension, from breaking free. Yuki’s legs are the only thing he can still truly move, and they carve wildly against the floor and into open air. Once or twice his shoes collide with something, and Tsurugi grunts in pain. But nothing is enough to release Yuki from his relentless iron grip.
“Y-Yuki.” Tsurugi calls, fear and guilt weaving into his small voice. Scarlet eyes find him, searching desperately. “Please, please…” Yuki’s struggles slow. He has to fight himself fiercely to stop moving, but somehow, he manages to do what Tsurugi needs him to.
“Tsuru-” Yuki is cut off by another wave of pain, and he wails softly. Hot tears fill his eyes.
“I…” Tsurugi’s eyes are wide and broken. “I'm so, so sorry, just… please, if you can, stay still…” Yuki’s mind is still flooded, overwhelmingly, by flaring panic and pain, but he manages to meet his eyes and nod. Tsurugi's expression softens a little, and the pressure on Yuki’s body decreases significantly.
Once he pulls back a little, Yuki finally gets an unobstructed view of the knife still piercing his pinned arm. The blade is sunk deep into his flesh, and blood is beginning to pool out. Tsurugi’s hands, and a good portion of his arms, are already covered in it.
Yuki’s trembling spreads into his legs, and he lifts up his free arm. Tsurugi nearly stops him, probably fearing further panic. But then, their unoccupied hands meet each other. Yuki squeezes his palm, and Tsurugi's guard lowers a little. He allows their fingers to slip into each other. In the bloody grip, Yuki's hand is stained, too.
It's brief. Tsurugi has to pull away in order to make use of both of his hands, after all. But it calms Yuki’s panicking body just enough to allow Tsurugi's attention to turn almost away from restraining him and back to the task at hand. Which leaves Yuki's focus to follow over to the painful image at his side. The feeling that hits him upon seeing the bloody thorn still piercing his flesh is indescribable.
A nauseating desire to pull out this thing which does not belong hits him hard, but he forces himself to stay still. If it hasn't been removed, that's definitely for a reason. Yuki closes his eyes for a second, then chooses to focus all his attention on the person kneeling over him instead. Tsurugi's face is intense; painted with horror, guilt, and an unyielding focus.
His bloodied hands work between carefully pressing down on Yuki’s arm and packing more pieces of their garments into the wound, replacing them as they become too saturated. Yuki’s thoughts are strangely unfocused. The waves of agony washing over his body make it hard not to be sharply aware of everything happening, but occasionally things feel oddly hazy. As though for a moment, he is instead watching the scene from somewhere far away.
Tsurugi’s eyes look almost watery in the dim light, and his expression is stricken. There's a blinking, painful pause, but then, with great effort, Yuki lifts his uninjured hand upwards. He startles a little as Yuki’s shaky fingers brush against his face, but Tsurugi, ever so slightly, leans into the touch.
A quick, uncertain glance, eyes wide and eyebrows pinched together, passes over, even though Tsurugi can't turn away from the task in front of him. It's too difficult to keep his arm up like that indefinitely, but Yuki tries to let it hang there for as long as he can. When it falls again, he settles for Tsurugi's arm, draping his hand near his elbow. His fingers curl against the skin in gentle, tiny brushstrokes.
The impact of Yuki’s loafers leave stinging welts on Tsurugi's back and the right side of one calf. They will surely form into nasty bruises, later. But Tsurugi doesn't process this. He barely feels them. The wild panic crashing like lightning through Yuki’s expression, and the blood splashing up onto his hands and arms, hurts far more.
The blood loss is worse than he hoped it would be, too. Even when Yuki somehow manages to still his trembling body enough for Tsurugi to focus entirely on the wound, it feels all together too fast, too deep, and too much.
Yuki whimpers, and Tsurugi feels the sound, as though it could vibrate through his entire body, despite it being barely audible. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. The chaotically swirling thoughts are escaping his hold.
I did this. Yuki's blood coats his palms.This happened because I gave in. Because I let myself be convinced, just like before, that it would be alright.
When he should have known better. When it should have been him instead. Tsurugi tries to ignore the images slamming into his head as he presses more makeshift gauze into the wound around the blade. The mark he left in Yuki’s soft, pale skin is deep and cruel. The blood coating his hands is overlapped with the blood of others, from other times, in other places. Why does this always...?
He already knows the reason. Something he can't escape. Because the answer is always himself. By stabbing Yuki at all, Tsurugi has become scum; no better than Tomori, Hatano, or Taira.
No. You're worse. He trusted you. And this time, you didn't just let it happen. Tears are starting to form in the corners of Tsurugi's eyes. You held the blade yourself.
Yuki’s going to die, and it’s all your fault. Tsurugi’s heart pounds viciously in his chest. Yuki’s pulse flutters in response underneath his fingertips, where his hand presses the arm down and keeps the knife from moving. No. No. No.
The spiraling words are interrupted by a soft mumbling sound. And then, a sudden touch against his face. Gentle fingers brush against Tsurugi's cheek, and he leans into it, as much as he can without turning his head. Confusion, panic, and gratitude swirl together. It's impossible to understand how Yuki could be capable of this, while the knife Tsurugi plunged into his flesh is still stuck there, like a massively cruel thorn.
Still, the sensation of Yuki's touch, even when the hand lowers to rest on his arm instead, keeps the darkness in Tsurugi's mind at bay. However, the blood continues to flow. More and more of the fabric becomes soaked with blood. Tsurugi switches it out for a larger patch, holding a huge clump of makeshift gauze over the wound, and waiting long, long, moments.
Focus on slowing the blood loss first. If it gets to the point where he can release Yuki’s arm without escalating things, then he can try dressing it with a pressure bandage. He can't remove the blade, of course, which is acting as a stopper in the wound, but they can get to that later, once things are stable. 10 minutes… Hopefully, how long it will take for the blood to start clotting. Just hold on. Count the seconds.
The two of them have been too preoccupied to think much about it, but airflow has returned to the room. While Tsurugi might have noticed the vents opening back up, he doesn't have the means to process anything else right now. The knife shifts, and Yuki whines in pain. Immediately, Tsurugi’s hand goes to hold the hilt, carefully shifting it back into place. Internally, he grimaces.
The strange shape of the blade is perfect for causing more blood to escape from the uneven wound. Disturbingly so. And of course, the heavy, ornamental handle makes it all the easier to tip or unsettle. I can't allow it to fall out now. The blood loss is bad enough already. All his attention is focused on fixing the placement, without allowing the knife to cut deeper into Yuki, or slide against a major artery. It's all still too close together for comfort, despite the carefully chosen location he drove the blade into.
All of this must be done while still continuing to apply pressure to the wound, and keeping count of the minutes as they pass. At no point, has there been any opportunity to check and see if the door had unlocked. And even if there had been, Tsurugi is far too focused on Yuki to notice much else. So when the door opens behind them, he doesn't hear it, nor the soft gasp that comes afterwards.
And unfortunately, the footsteps approaching from behind are too silent to pick up, even for him. Neither of them realize, until it's too late. Yuki’s eyes dart to the side, and his mouth opens with a soft mumbling groan. That's the only warning Tsurugi gets before something, or rather, someone, slams into his side, knocking him off Yuki in a vicious tackle.
“Get away from him!” Akane is suddenly forcing him down with an almost incomprehensible amount of strength. Her eyes are wide with fury and fear. Tears are streaming down her face. Tsurugi understands it immediately. Only one picture could have been painted in her mind when she entered the room.
Tsurugi’s position over their injured classmate, his hands covered in blood, still holding the knife plunged into Yuki’s flesh… It's obvious what kind of conclusion she came to. Tsurugi can't even deny that she's wrong. Not really. It is my fault. But still. There's no time for this.
“Wai-” Tsurugi tries. But Akane doesn't relent. And when he tries to get up again, she slams a knee deftly into his chest, knocking all words, and air, out of him. A hoarse wheeze escapes Tsurugi as he falls again. Far beyond his bloodied hands, Yuki struggles to turn his head enough to see them. His left hand weakly presses down around the blade, attempting to replicate what Tsurugi had been doing, but blood spills from the wound. A web of pink grows in size, bloody lines crossing through the cracks and seams of the floorboards. I need to get back there, now.
Using as much force as he can muster, Tsurugi rams the top of his head into Akane's chin. A sharp clacking sound, followed by a gasp of pained shock, opens up an opportunity for him to shove her aside with one shoulder. Akane shrinks away for a moment, but Tsurugi is only up for a few seconds before she recovers.
And naturally, his retaliation seems to worsen their conflict significantly. The already dangerous problem escalates into a potentially deadly catastrophe as she leaps into motion. Akane's ribbons spin in the air as she twirls, body moving with a lithe, practiced grace that Tsurugi cannot fathom her having. But whether or not he can understand how, the Ultimate Maid still slams a leg into his shins, and he falls to the ground, hard.
By the time Tsurugi lands, her entire body is atop his own, pressing his shoulders down. Tsurugi fiercely fights against her, rolling to his back despite her attempts to hold him. But when he strikes at her, trying wildly to force her off, Akane meets him blow for blow. Yuki is completely out of view now, which makes the fear already muddying his mind overtake his thoughts even more. It causes him to momentarily lose himself, and he twists in a violent panic, leaving himself open.
The lapse costs him. An unforgiving, hard pressure, sinks into his neck. Tsurugi gasps for breath, fighting all the more wildly, all strategy and logic truly thrown completely aside, now. If he's incapacitated, Yuki could die. But nothing he does seems to work. Akane hardly reacts even when he manages to hit her. It's as though the pain means nothing to her at all.
How had he let himself be caught so horrifically off guard? If he had noticed, then she would surely be the one pressed against the floor right now. But instead, Tsurugi screwed up, massively, and again. Now that she has him pinned, air steadily running out, he is quickly running out of methods to resist.
Maybe this is the performance Monokuma wanted to see all along. A victim, killer, and third party all circling out of control. A chaotic, mad dance, of clashing loyalties, confusion, and pain which will almost certainly lead to death. But what does that matter? Regardless of what Monokuma may or may not have planned, Tsurugi was the one who set them all spinning in the first place.
Stars sparkle in the edges of his vision. Tsurugi reaches a hand out, towards where he knows Yuki must still be bleeding out, even if he can't see him. Do something! His mind screams. Anything! But even if he had the breath or words, he knows by the wild look of Akane's eyes that there is nothing he could say to talk her down, now. The only option is to fight; but he is losing. None of his words could possibly reach her now, even if he had the means to speak.
However, someone else's words might. Akane freezes, stiffening above his body, and Tsurugi stills too, attempting to make out whatever she's clearly trying so desperately to hear. They both strain to make out the soft sound carrying over the air to find them.
“…Akane… stop…” The voice is hoarse, but firm. The strange tenor of it, probably caused by Yuki struggling to speak at all, never mind somehow raising his voice loud enough to be heard, makes it sound hollow and almost empty. Immediately, Akane’s spine stiffens, and she lifts her elbow away from Tsurugi's neck. He gasps, forcing several shuddering breaths of air before managing to lift his head and look back towards Yuki once more. The face he sees is frantic. Yuki’s gaze is bright with concern, pain, and fear.
Please. His warm eyes seem to say. Please don't kill each other.
Because he's still watching that face, Tsurugi doesn't shove Akane aside immediately. And that gives her the chance to release him herself, instead. She stands up, stepping backward to monitor Tsurugi as he rises from the floor with a hoarse cough. Then, he monitors her in turn as he slowly steps toward Yuki. Painfully alert, just in case she suddenly turns on him. He won't be caught off guard again, and allow Yuki to die because they were too busy fighting each other to help him.
Warm brown eyes follow Tsurugi's movements as he kneels down by his side again. Once he gently presses more gauze against the wound, Yuki's hand slowly falls away again. The knife shifts slightly with their movements, and a quiet moan of pain shivers through the body beneath him. Delicately, Tsurugi touches the hilt once more, carefully steadying it.
Only after the blade stills once more within the wound, does Tsurugi process that Akane is hovering over his shoulder. The look on her face makes it clear that she is just as horrified as he is. But Tsurugi still watches each motion with a wary gaze as she kneels down beside him.
“I’ll go get help.” She manages to say. Tsurugi nods, not able to look away from Yuki. His heart pounds even more frantically in his chest after the fight. He sees Akane’s hand quickly squeeze Yuki’s in the corner of his eye. The fingers curl weakly into hers for a moment. Then, she tears herself away, briefly meeting Tsurugi's eyes before she stands. “I’m sorry.” She whispers, and sprints away.
Tsurugi hardly pays attention. Yuki’s hand tilts limply to the ground as soon as Akane lets go, strength sapped. Tsurugi waits painfully for the bleeding to slow, applying constant pressure to the area around the dagger. But it's not enough. He needs to act.
“I’m going to tie something around your arm,” Tsurugi touches the skin level to Yuki's armpit, marking the spot he plans to place the tourniquet. Yuki stares at him, looking far more dazed than before. No nod follows this time. Is he going into shock? The same thoughts begin to swirl again. Kinjo swallows. He's going to die and it's all your fault. Tsurugi reaches for the grey tie still lying nearby. Yuki's eyes track the hand lifting over his body.
The sight of brown irises still following his movements, even though the pupils are wide and ragged, does chase away some of the panic, at least. Just stay focused on what needs to be done. One step at a time. The tie is perfectly suitable, but there's really only one option for the other piece. And it's not ideal. His fingers close around the fountain pen sitting in his pocket. It's rather large, and made from metal, thankfully. And at least he has something.
“This is going to hurt.” Tsurugi’s jaw hardens as he meets Yuki’s eyes again. I need to act. He knows that the point at which Yuki will have lost too much blood to recover without serious aid is approaching quickly. And there's no way Monokuma will show up with a stretcher and blood transfusions if they reach that point. While they have the infirmary, that's long minutes away from here, and their Ultimate Surgeon is no longer able to aid them. If that happens, it would almost certainly be the point of no return.
Biting his cheek to force aside that thought, Tsurugi carefully loops the tie around Yuki’s upper arm. Warm eyes follow his fingers as he ties the first knot, then positions the pen above, tying it into the tourniquet too. Sometimes, the task requires both hands. Whenever he briefly lifts his other hand from the wound in order to complete the knots, blood begins to flow out more rapidly.
The sight causes Tsurugi’s heart to beat even more violently against his chest. Despite the vents being open and clear once more, it feels difficult to breathe. But he manages to complete the preparation quickly.
“Yuki, this is a tourniquet… in a second I’m going to tighten it, and that will cause a lot of pain, but it’s going to stop the bleeding, okay?” Tsurugi’s voice is steadier than he expects it to be. He can't be certain of how cognizant Yuki truly is, but his gaze does snap slowly to Tsurugi's face, sending the message that he's still able to understand. Swallowing hard, Tsurugi squeezes Yuki’s other hand briefly, and begins to twist the pen.
As the windlass turns, Yuki’s teeth clench together in a sharp grimace, face turning white as the pressure increases around his arm. A low whine escapes his throat. Tsurugi has already prepared himself, positioning himself preemptively above in case the pain devolves into panic and he needs to keep Yuki still again. But despite him expecting it, the low scream still pierces into him, a spike of ice that hits his heart and freezes his core.
What makes it worse is how Yuki hardly moves underneath him. Maybe, because he's too weak to struggle this time. And if not, that must mean he's completely, brutally aware. Able to understand and feel the full extent of everything Tsurugi is doing to him. But even as the soul-shattering sounds cut into him, Tsurugi keeps twisting harder and harder, pinching the fabric tighter into Yuki’s bare skin.
It continues until the tourniquet digs into the muscle, constricting his arm. At this, he pauses, placing two fingers into the crook of Yuki’s wounded arm. To his relief, there is no longer a pulse below where the fabric is tied. He wraps the ends of the tie in one final knot to finish the tourniquet. Yuki whimpers, and Tsurugi looks back to see fresh tears in his warm eyes, and the way his pain keeps them clear and sharp.
“I'm sorry, I know it hurts…” Tsurugi whispers. “It’s going to be okay.” It’s spoken as much to Yuki as it is to himself. Please. Please work. Tsurugi returns his focus to the stab wound. He isn't sure if he's only imagining it at first, but the blood begins to pour out more and more slowly beneath his hand. Relief fights to the surface, but Tsurugi doesn't allow himself to accept it yet.
Only when the blood finally stops, does Tsurugi finally start to breathe properly again. He drops the other tie, readied in his free hand in case he had to repeat the process, and lowers his head. A deep, shuddering breath escapes Tsurugi's chest as he shifts off Yuki’s body at last. He leans back, looking from his bloody hands to the person lying in front of him.
Yuki makes a soft, mumbling sound, face is still pinched with pain. It's probably a word, but it's unintelligible. Warm brown eyes still track Tsurugi's closely. The sudden stillness is hard to exist in, now that it's over. Is it over? Tsurugi’s body is still tense, telling him he needs to act, act, act, even now that there's nothing more to be done, at least for now.
Wait… A light trembling shudders through Yuki’s body. Alarm flashes into Tsurugi's mind, and he quickly checks the wound, the tourniquet, and Yuki's vitals in rapid succession. Nothing has changed. Except for how his eyes bore into Tsurugi searchingly. Chest tight, he shifts closer to Yuki's side, and lifts his left hand, squeezing it tightly. To his relief, the trembling fades. Yuki’s head turns, almost imperceptibly, toward him.
As if unconsciously, Tsurugi's remaining hand lifts, and he watches it find Yuki’s face and neck. Tsurugi's fingers are bloody against Yuki’s skin and hair. And when his thumb brushes lightly against Yuki’s cheek, it paints a messy pink brush stroke near his mouth. The blood stains Yuki's pale skin and even parts of his hair whenever the ginger locks fall against Tsurugi's hand. But neither of them care.
He’s going to make it… Tsurugi realizes. I… I didn’t fail. Yuki starts to mumble again. As he tries to speak, his mouth curves into a weak smile. Tsurugi leans in to make out the words.
“…knew… you could… do it…” Yuki says weakly. Tsurugi can see how his teeth are still clenched in pain, but also how his eyes are more relieved than agonized now. Something warm and strong melts underneath Yuki’s gaze, too. Tsurugi sighs as the crushing weight over his chest begins to lighten a little at last.
Several pairs of footsteps vibrate into the floor, approaching rapidly in the distance. They must be coming to help. But he doesn't look away. He doesn't want to. Yuki's head tilts to the side a little, listening. "…Help me…sit up, …would you…?" His voice is already a little stronger.
Tsurugi watches his gaze flicker toward the doorway for a moment. Most likely, he's considering the potential reactions they're about to be hit with. Well, it probably would be better if the first thing they see isn't Yuki still lying in a pool of his own blood with me hovering over him...
So despite the fact that he would prefer to keep Yuki from moving at all, he nods, and gently eases Yuki's upper body up. Though Tsurugi is relieved that nothing shifts in his handiwork, a groan still escapes Yuki's lips as his arm is raised, and he doesn't seem capable of staying upright on his own.
So, Tsurugi gently adjusts his body in order to support Yuki instead, huffing lightly as their shoulders press together. It's a delicate process to rests the injured arm atop their knees, and Yuki hisses in pain as it moves, but his face relaxes a bit once it's done, and he leans into Tsurugi gratefully.
"…Thank you," Yuki murmurs. Unable to quite find words just yet, Tsurugi hums lightly in response instead. Their fingers twine together a bit as Tsurugi's arm lowers near Yuki's injured one in order to ensure it doesn't move too much. A ginger haired head leans closer to Tsurugi's chest and shoulder as he lifts his free arm to hold Yuki's back. A relieved, tired sigh echoes near Tsurugi's ear.
Even once the others reach them, it still doesn't quite sink in. Their classmates bring a flurry of voices and movement with them, fluttering around the two of them like a flock of worried magpies. Tsurugi answers their questions from somewhere a little outside himself.
Somehow, Yuki manages to nod and even speak at several points during all of it, clearly determined to prevent further conflict. It feels wrong to Tsurugi for the victim to be giving out reassurance at all, but he can't deny how his quiet interjections calm the situation significantly.
With help from Teruya and supplies Akane brought from the infirmary, the wound is dressed properly with a sterile bandage, the knife secured in place. And, eventually, they deem Yuki stable enough to move to the infirmary.
So, Tsurugi takes them away from their cage. He gently lifts Yuki off the floor, arranging the injured hand delicately between them. Ginger hair brushes his bare shoulder, and warm, tired eyes gaze at him the whole way to the infirmary.
The pressure really only seems to cease some time after the morning announcement plays, and Yuki is at last lying in bed, knife and tourniquet safely removed. The wound has already begun to clot and scab, and bandages are wrapped carefully around it, but Tsurugi still hovers nearby, anxious that at any moment, danger will appear.
"It really is that horrible..." Yuki stares up at the ceiling, seemingly still a little loopy and dazed from the painkillers Mekaru and Teruya had found and carefully dosed out. "Like... When you see it in the movies, it looks bad, but..." He grimaces. Guilt surges to the surface again. Tsurugi is about to open his mouth, and apologize again, not that it makes any difference against what he did, when Yuki turns his head back towards him.
"If you weren't there..." Yuki's voice is a little drowsy, but the warmth in it takes Tsurugi by surprise. "I'm just glad... you were, Tsurugi... I knew... I could trust you." Shock ripples through Tsurugi's heart.
"Yuki..." He whispers. A confusing mess of thoughts and emotions surge through him at the realization that Yuki never once stopped believing in him.
Yuki frowns at the look on his face. "Hey... I said it would be alright, didn't I...?" His words are a bit hazy, and he tries a little deliriously to sit up, reaching for him.
"Don't get up yet, okay?" Tsurugi gently presses his back down to the mattress again.
"Okay..." Yuki says sleepily. But when Tsurugi moves further away from the infirmary bed, towards the others, he shifts unhappily, and tries to get up again. Eventually, Tsurugi gives up and sits down on the bed beside him. And at last, Yuki stays still.
Tsurugi ends up staying there, watching over him, even after the concerned buzz from their classmates finally fades. Despite it all, Tsurugi hasn’t managed to wrap his head around it just yet. The reality that this time, it had ended differently.
So even though the crisis has come to an end, and they're surrounded by the others, Tsurugi's focus remains narrowed to the person at his side.
He's still taking in the warm palm pressed into his own; the heart continuing to beat against his fingertips; and most of all, how the sunlight is still burning brightly in Yuki’s eyes.